


Touch

by teacuphuman



Series: Bingo Card 2017 [2]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, New Relationship, Public Display of Affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11498097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacuphuman/pseuds/teacuphuman
Summary: Eames can’t fathom how he could have guessed so wrong.





	Touch

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the PDA square on my Kink/Trope Bingo Card.

It’s been three months, five days, twelve hours, and twenty-seven minutes, and nothing is going as Eames expected. 

 

He can’t really say he’s surprised, since half of his attraction to Arthur stems from the man’s ability to keep Eames on his toes. Going high when he should go low, zigging when Eames expects him to zag. Dropping to his knees in the middle of a reconnaissance mission, just to throw Eames’ equilibrium off. He’s dastardly in his dedication to remain unpredictable.

 

But this part of Arthur has stopped Eames in his tracks. When he envisioned it that first night, laying in bed still sweaty and panting, sore in new and thrilling places, he imagined the reticence it would require to both sleep and work with Arthur. The rules that would be laid down. The rules Eames was more than moderately afraid to break. 

 

They both had something to lose now, Arthur had said so. Had whispered it into the skin on the back of Eames’ neck as he rocked into him, so sweet and so slow. The work would be different now.  _ They _ were different. But where Eames had expected to hold back, to hide, Arthur’s gone in the opposite direction, and it’s driving him mad. 

 

The firm drag of Arthur’s palm across the small of Eames’ back, the soft caress of long fingers through Eames’ hair, the quiet kiss to his temple that has him nearly startling out of his chair. Arthur’s barely stopped touching him since they started this thing, and Eames can’t fathom how he could have guessed so wrong.

 

Arthur shrugs when he asks him, soft smile playing on his lips, taking Eames’ hand and  lacing their fingers together as they walk out of the warehouse. 

 

“Maybe I’m tired of stopping myself when it comes to you.”


End file.
